


Accidentally

by Fetish Ball (arsenicarose)



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Accidental wetting, F/M, Fetish, Kink, M/M, Pants wetting, Reader-Insert, Urolagnia, Urophilia, Watersports, Wetting, gender neutral reader, golden showers, wetting on purpose, wetting someone else's pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/Fetish%20Ball
Summary: Spencer gets too distracted by reading all the time, but this time, he doesn't make it.A/N: There is watersports fetish stuff in here.A/N: To the anonymous message on a different website. Thank you so much! I really appreciated your kind words. If you have any requests/suggestions, please feel free to ask. You don't need to be anonymous. :)





	1. The Accident

You find Spencer reading on the couch, so you just sit right next to him. He raises the book, and you slide your legs onto his lap. As you pull out your own book, you say, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Good to see you, Y/N,” he replies without looking up from his book.

You don’t mind, this is normal Spencer behavior. He has a stack of books on either side of him, one for completed books and one for books to read next. You anticipate that he will be done in a few hours. You sink into the arm of the couch and read your book at your very normal pace.

As time passes, you feel Spencer start to fidget beneath you. This is also normal. In a few minutes, he will shove your legs off and dash to the bathroom to relieve himself. Sometimes, you find yourself wishing that he wouldn’t make it, but you never stop him or interfere. That part of yourself is hidden.

His starts bouncing in his seat a little, and you glance up. He is captivated by whatever he is reading, turning pages even faster than usual. His tongue is caught between his lips as he considers the pages. You can also see a little strain on his face. He is definitely holding, trying to finish some unknown number of tasks before he gets up. Ah, Spencer.

You go back to your book, expecting your legs to fly off of him any second. You weren’t going to treat him like a child and remind him of bodily functions, though. He knew what he was doing.

Finally, he sets the book down, and gives your legs a gentle push. You move them off him immediately, and he stands.

After a single step, he whispers, “Oh fuck.”

“What is it, Spence?” you ask.

“Nothing, go back to your reading.” You see him squeezing his thighs together, trying to hold whatever is there.

“Come on, hon. I know what’s up. Let me help.”

“How can you help?”

“Bend over a little and walk without moving your thighs as much as you can.” You don’t tell him that you know these tricks from your own holding escapades. You had kept them to yourself, constrained to when he was out of town for a case.

He follows your instructions and takes a few careful steps forward. You wrap an arm around his waist to help walk him to the bathroom. Getting him to tiled floor is your first priority; he has really nice rugs around the couch.

A few more steps, and he gasps, folding in half. A small wet spot appears, and you find yourself eyeing it.

“Come on, Spence, just a little further,” you urge.

After many more careful steps, and few spurts, you make it to the bathroom. Spencer’s face is bright red, and he won’t look at you. He doesn’t banish you at the bathroom door, still in need of your help. What doesn’t know is how turned on this makes you. If only you had the courage to tell him.

When you are both inside, you can feel him relax. Rookie mistake, thinking that you have made it before you get to the toilet. Your eyes fall to the wet spot on his crotch expectantly.

A huge spurt gushes out of him, but he can’t stop it this time. With a whimper, the spot grows, flowing down his pant leg and onto the ground below. You want nothing more than to touch it, feel his pissing cock through his wet jeans, but you resist. He is so clearly uncomfortable, you don’t want to make it worse.

It flows for what seems like a minute. His pants are glistening with piss, and the puddle beneath your feet is growing bigger and bigger. You are watching it all unfold, trying to hide your desire with curiosity.

When it’s all over, you cannot tear your eyes away. Every time that he made it, you had secretly hoped for this. You didn’t think it would ever happen again, so you tried to burn the image in your mind.

“Did you like watching that?” he asks, bitterly. He doesn’t know that you loved it.

“Actually, yes, I did,” you murmur, “And, if it makes you feel better...”

You relaxed your bladder muscles. You had done this so many times, that it didn’t take much. You hadn’t had to pee as badly as him, but you hadn’t gone since lunch at work. A small spot appears immediately, and you gasp. The feeling is always amazing.

You control your stream to make it last longer. A steady, but slow, flow trickles out of you, filling your underwear and overflowing into your pants. Your pants darken as the rivulets of piss flow down. His eyes are glued on your crotch as you relieve yourself, so you allow yourself to tilt your head back in bliss.

The puddle under your feet grows even bigger, threatening to escape the bathroom or touch the rug. In one motion, you pick up the bathroom rug and take a step further inside, letting your flow continue. You feel the need to masturbate building, but you resist the urge. One thing at a time.  
When you finish, Spencer finally is willing to meet your gaze. You can see him profiling you, and you start to worry. Now that he knows what will he do?

“So, you did enjoy it…” he says, surprised.

“I have been watching you almost not make it for months, Spence. This is a good day,” you reply, heat spreading to your cheeks.

“You never, uh, stopped me, or made me do it, though.”

You furrow your brow. “Of course not, Spence. I didn’t think you would be into that, and I wouldn’t want to force you to wet yourself. Today was just a happy accident.”

“You even helped me to the bathroom…”

“Spencer, I like what I like, but I would never make you do it.”

He embraces you, pressing his wet crotch against you. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Spence,” you say from his chest.

“You know… I get really distracted sometimes…”

“Mmhmm.”

“I mean, I might not make it all the time. It’s been known to happen…”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know some things about urophilia, some acts, and I don’t think I can do them. But I can do this for you, if you want.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin and get on your tiptoes for a kiss. He lowers his head so you can meet. After the kiss, you pull away breathless. “We should probably clean this up, though.”

“Agreed. Does it have to be this messy every time? I mean the bathroom needs to be mopped now.”

You laugh. “Next time, aim for the bathtub.”

“Good idea.”


	2. On Purpose

When you were done, you both stepped into the shower, mostly clothed, and washed yourselves off. The pants and underwear went into the washing machine. You offered to mop the floor for him, since it wasn’t gross to you, and he accepted happily. 

After you finished cleaning, you and Spencer didn’t talk about it again. That night, you had some amazing sex, but he didn’t bring it up, and neither did you. Multiple times, you saw him squirm for a while, but give in and go to the bathroom. You didn’t push. You knew that this kind of fetish can be hard to contend with, especially if he wasn’t into it. You chalked that night as a wonderful one off, and moved on.

A couple of weeks later, you arrive at the apartment with the incident completely out of your mind. You still think of it on occasion, like when Spencer is away and you need release, but it is now mostly a fantasy.

You sit on the couch, and Spencer lifts his book. Normal day. You splay your legs across him, and read. You notice that he is already squirming, but you put it out of your mind. He has squirmed beneath you many times since that night.

After a few minutes, you notice he is really desperate. His legs are crossed, and he is leaning forward to relieve the pressure. Your eyes peek over the edge of your book, but his face reveals nothing. You continue reading.

When he starts squeezing himself. You move your legs aside, and sit upright, but he doesn’t move.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Spencer?”

“I’m not sure if I can do this on purpose…” is his immediate reply. Had he been trying all those weeks?

“You don’t have to. I love you and what we do together, even without it.”

“I want to, Y/N. The look on your face was well worth it. I’m just nervous.”

“It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

He shoots up from his seat. “Actually, it does have to be tonight. Help me?”

You set your book aside, and shove down your hopes. You are going to help him get to the bathroom on time. Watching his desperation kept you horny for a long time. He is nervous, and you don’t want to bring fear into the bedroom.

You wrap a gentle arm around his waist and walk him toward the bathroom. It seems like he has been practicing, because he doesn’t leak as much this time. By the time you cross onto the bathroom’s tile floor, there is only a quarter sized wet spot.

He doesn’t relax on the tile, having learned from his mistake. You lead him to the toilet and turn away, fully prepared to leave.

“Wait, Y/N! Wait!” he says, desperation painting his voice.

You turn back, and he has climbed into the bathtub. He is still holding on, and he is waiting for you.

“Are you sure, Spence?”

“Yes. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. I can’t get back out of here.”

“Can I get in?”

“Of course.” He smiles at you, and moves to one side. You notice it is the side without the drain on it. Smart.

You slip in next to him, anticipation growing. “Thank you, Spence,” you murmur. He leans in and kisses you. You wrap your arms around him and pull him against your body. As you press yourself into his groin, he lets out a whine. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie! Your poor bladder!”

“It’s okay. I’m trying to let go. It is difficult to do by choice.” He is blushing, and you kiss his reddened cheeks, before leaning into his ear.

“Relax,” you whisper, “It’s just me, and you know I like it.”

A gasp escapes him and you see that the spot is bigger now, about the size of your fist. The flow stops, his body’s natural defenses preventing him from letting go. “Damn,” he whispers.

“You can still get to the toilet, sweetheart.”

“No, I want to do this.”

“Maybe it would be easier if you wet my pants?” you suggest.

“How would I do that? I mean, I don’t know if they would fit…”

“I mean like this.” You unzip his damp pants and lower them a little, revealing wet underwear. It comes down too, and his cock is bare. You let your desire show on your face, as you undo the button of your own pants.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Spencer asks.

“Watch this.” You gingerly take his take his cock in your hand, and slide it into your pants.

“Ohhhh.” He grins at you. “That could work.”

You adjust your position slightly, changing the angle so that his dick slides deeper into your pants. He leans down to kiss you again, and you meet him eagerly. After a few seconds, heat spills between your thighs.

“Oh fuck…” you moan, thrusting into him.

He pulls away for a moment to study you. Somehow, he still doesn’t believe that you want this. You pull him back into the kiss, allowing your fingers to find the hem of his shirt. You slide your hand up the plane of his stomach until you find one of his nipples.

The slow heat becomes heavier, and you thrust against him again. Each thrust disrupts the flow for a moment, and you know making him hard could end it. You are so horny that you don’t care.

He starts moaning too, pleasure inexorably mixed with this odd experience. You run your fingers through his hair, and kiss down his neck.

As the stream starts to dwindle, you thrust faster. You are so close to cumming from the wonderful experience, and you can feel him harden as his finishes. Your pants slide down, and you rub yourself against him, eliciting cries from you both.

“Oh fuck, Spence, I’m close,” you murmur in his ear, before nibbling his earlobe.

“Me too.”

You shudder with pleasure, and that sends you over the edge. It is difficult to cum while standing, and your legs spasm beneath you. Your arm flies out to find a wall to grab onto, and you brace yourself.

Your wild bucking brings Spencer as well. He shoots his load on your thighs and hips and buries his face in your neck, gasping. Your free hand finds his hair, and you brush your fingers through it soothingly.

“That was… something,” he says, still trying to catch his breath.

“Oh yeah. It was amazing, at least for me. Thank you so much.”

“Maybe, next time, I can, um, go all over you?”

“Next time?”

He pulls himself up to standing, meeting your gaze with sparkling eyes. “Yeah, next time,” he replies, before kissing you.


End file.
